The Grand Age of 9
by HoshisamaValmor
Summary: Usual missadventures of the yet-to-be Drake Brothers on Nate's 9th birthday.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** To break my pattern of writing emotionally unstable problematic young boys at problematic times of my life, Uncharted 4 exists and provides me with beautiful peace and parallels. I am happy to have an existential hideaway wraphole for the past 3 weeks. And at least this way I can write about emotionally stable problematic young boys for once.

This took me a week or so, but I haven't had a more pleasant brainstorming session before, including writing the outline on napkins. Typed mostly to _'Sic Parvis Magna'_ and _'The Brothers Drake'_ from the OST, _Know Thyself_ by Aephanemer and listening to walkthroughs of the chapter.

 **Disclaimer:** Naughty Dog owns everything related to Uncharted and rightfully so. Thank you. You go Drake bros.

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Birthdays weren't that special. It wasn't like he was changing and magically growing up after the last chime at midnight. He didn't really know at what time he had been born, so it wasn't like he knew for sure he already existed in the world and was held on his mother's arms precisely at this moment nine years ago.

And it was easier to not really care much. Birthdays meant parties and presents, and it wasn't like he could have all or any of that. He tried to be happy with what he got, and to be with the people he wanted.

That meant one person.

Sam wasn't here. Five days ago, Sam had gone upstairs earlier during dinner, and despite Sister Catherine's sharp (and keen) remarks that he should stay in the dining room like everyone else or at least be watched over, Sam had fled the orphanage shortly afterwards through the windows and rooftops. There hadn't been word of him since, even though the local policemen, already used to be on the lookout for the casual runaways - and particularly familiar with Sam - were notified that very evening.

Much to Nate's request to go with him, all his pleas ended with a saddened and guilty expression as every time it was a _'You gotta stay here, Nathan'_. Nate tried playing all sort of cards, even picking on his approaching birthday, but Sam reassured him he wouldn't be long nor would he be far off. He wasn't abandoning him. He never would. Nate knew that, but at the same time...

It wasn't the first time Sam would flee, but Nate didn't like to be left alone. All the times, Nate would be the one to stay behind and hear everyone's comments and remarks. The compliments on Sam's evading skills were more often than not sprayed with jealous mockery, and then there were the disappointed and annoyed scoldings and complaints of most Sisters and caretakers. Father Duffy was always leaning towards educational reabilitation rather than punishing strategy, but he obviously wasn't satisfied when these situations happened and his disappointment always left Nate feeling guilty himself.

He might try not to care much about birthdays, but that didn't mean he didn't care at all. And Sam wasn't here.

"Happy birthday, Nathan."

Nate looked up, caught off guard. It took him one moment to process the words he heard before actually understanding them, and Father Duffy smiled when he tried to compose himself.

"Uh, thank you Father Duffy. I'm sorry, I didn't even hear you approaching."

"Yes, you did seem far off." Father Duffy had to frequently keep track of everyone's personal files, because he never missed any of the boys' birthdays. It was actually a small but nice kindness on his part. "Have you eaten something nice today? I'm sure you can ask for a treat at the kitchen, tell them."

"I'll think about it, Father. Thanks. I don't really... care much for birthdays, but I'll see if I go eat something. After lunch."

"Sister Mercy and Sister Catherine are going for a morning walk outside. You should be alright to go with them, you haven't got any bad grades or been intro trouble lately."

"I'm trying to, Father. And you know Sam is always telling me that too, maybe it's working out."

"Yes, I know. He should listen more to his own good advise, don't you think?" Father Duffy noted, and Nate had to smile at that. His expression didn't last long before falling and a saddened frown made its way to his expression before he could try to hide it. He didn't really want to look at Father Duffy, but he suspected he knew the look on the priest's face. "You should go outside, Nathan. It's not too cold today. It'll be a change of air, specially since today is your birthday. It'll be nice for you to do something different."

"Yeah, I know. It might be nice to go out, I'll think about it."

"That's good to hear." Father Duffy gave him a gentle and reassuring pat on the shoulder. "If you see Samuel, tell him to listen to his own advise and stay out of trouble. Tell him he can come home."

"He knows, Father."

Father Duffy nodded and turned, greeting two boys nearby before moving around the room to talk with a Sister.

Nate sighed, but he knew Father Duffy was right. Going out would be good. Maybe Sam would send a word to him. Obviously he wasn't going to come strolling down the road where the Sisters and a small group of kids were without being escorted back to the orphanage, but at least they might see each other.

Or not. Well, it was a better plan than any he had before.

That meant he would have to go ask Sister Catherine if he could go. Nate didn't really like to live in this place for an endless list of reasons, and most of the Sisters were part of it. Sister Catherine wasn't a big fan of Sam, and had a default mistrust when it came to Nate. She talked to him with a tone of pity, as if he was 'the good brother', a boy of good potential doomed to follow bad advise from the bad brother. She hadn't been too nice in her comments about Sam and his latest escape. She had been the first to insist that an upgrade on barred windows should be considered either on repeat runaways, or on all the older boys dormitories by proxy. Father Duffy immediately refuted those suggestions.

It didn't take long to find her. Climbing down the stairs to the main courtyard, she was already pairing a small group of boys, all older than Nate, together with Sister Mercy.

"Oh, hello Nathan," Sister Mercy, the elder of the two, greeted him as he approached.

"Hi, can I still go with you?"

"Nathan." Sister Catherine turned to him. "You want to come with us? That's unsual."

"Uh, Father Duffy suggested it. It's my birthday, he said it might be nice for a change."

"Oh, happy birthday," one of the boys said, and Nate started wondering if he should have said anything about it, not so much to avoid other kids either congratulating him or picking on him, but more to avoid Sister Catherine making some mental connections. Which was precisely what seemed to happen.

"Happy birthday, Nathan. So, your brother's expecting you I suppose?"

"I haven't heard a word on Sam, Sister. I don't know where he is."

In her effort to try to salvage him from his brother's _'bad influence'_ , Sister Catherine had also tried to make Nate believe Sam would one day move on with his life during one of such escapes and leave Nate behind. They should grow apart, it was for the best; Sam was already doing it, Nate should do so too. That comment had made absolutely nothing to make him feel better, and he was still hurt about it. His reply to her on that day might have not been the nicest.

"I'm sure he'll come back soon, though," he added, just a bit too harsh.

"Maybe he didn't really leave you, he just waited for you to go to him. You're intelligent, Nathan. You should know going out isn't the best option for you today."

Now that the idea had already grown on him, they wanted to take it away. Nate felt the horrible pinch of frustration and was ready to try and presist, but Sister Mercy intervened in his stead.

"Sister, don't be so stern. Nathan is a good boy. Of course he can come with us."

"You'll need a pair."

"There's no need, Sister, I-"

"Thomas? Come with us, we're going for a morning walk outside."

Nate sighed quietly as a boy his age, smaller than him and wearing a sparkly white shirt, joined the group. He was frequently picked on because of his size and because he was highly and devotely catholic, unlike most of the other boys. Nate didn't really care for the boy, but he didn't really want to have extra reasons for the older boys to mock him, and specially he didn't want to be paired up if he was going outside.

"I heard, today is your birthday, right? Happy birthday," the boy Thomas said. Nate blinked in surprise and muttered a thanks.

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to be continued

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Author's note: As usual, what was meant to be a 1000 word one chapter will turn into something with three times more words and two chapters because I physically don't have more time to finish this. Story of my life I guess.

Sorry Sam isn't in this chapter yet, believe me I wanted to.

 **Thanks for reading** please point out mistakes and bad grammar. Second chapter should be up tomorrow hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** From here on out, when I say _'tomorrow I'll post the chapter'_ , it means _'two or three days from now'_. Also, like in my Shingeki no Kyojin fic, the 'one small chapter' expanded to 3 chapters instead. Sorry.

Thanks to Lexi13930, Coldrane, LBozzie, LittleSlytherin394, everyone at AO3 too (holy shit there's so many of you) and everyone else who reads. Thank you for your time!

Lastly, I'm not a pirate or treasure expert unfortunately so I basically searched some stuff on the internet for the doubloons' infos.

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Coming outside was proving to be more of a drag than he thought. More than being a drag, it was leaving him sadder by the minute. No one was picking on him, and the weather was actually really nice, just a bit too windy, but maybe he _had_ been waiting for something special to happen. Maybe, in the end, he still did care if it was his birthday, and that again, he couldn't have anything he wanted.

"You look sad."

For the second time today, he was caught off guard. The sound startled him and Nate looked at Thomas as if he had forgotten the other boy was close by while they waited for Sister Catherine to buy some vegetables.

"What?"

"You look... nevermind."

Nate shrugged and kicked a rock with the tip of his shoe. He missed the small piece and only hit dirt instead, leaving him twice as annoyed. He had been looking around, searching for some sort of signal or indication that Sam might give, but there was nothing. Maybe he just wouldn't be able to come by, not even later, sneeking to into the orphanage or something.

Nate sighed and let his shoulders fall down. What did it matter anyway. It was better to spend the rest of the day making something productive, like reading. If only any subject would quickly pick his interest today.

"You think Sister Catherine is gonna take long?" he asked, not really bothering to look over the heads of the kids waiting in the front of the convinience store where the Sister had entered.

"Probably not," Thomas replied casually. "I'm really hungry too, I hope we'll have a nice lunch."

Uncalled for, Nate's stomach decided to rumble annoyingly at the mention of food. He wasn't as eager for lunch though, as the caretakers' cooking was far from being good.

He was just about to make an unpleasant comment on that regard when, as if it wasn't enough on his case already, someone bumped at him. A man with a slight hump on his back, wearing a large grey coat and a hat passed by them in haste, hitting Nate clumsly on the shoulder. Not expecting the impact, Nate in turn bumped slightly against Thomas. Both boys turned, Nate ready to shot a very bothered and tired look at the man, but instead something heavy fell to the floor with a strangely muffled, yet still clear clanking noise. The man didn't really appear to notice.

"Oh, hey, sir!" Thomas called, and Nate picked up the wallet as the smaller boy fastened his pace to try and catch the man around the corner. The black plain leather wallet had cellotape on one side, holding something. Odd. He almost had the instinctive reaction of opening the wallet to check for change, but instead he turned it on his hand and found why the cellotape was there for. A small silver coin, Spanish, an antique dating 1821 and probably worth something nice, was stuck between the leather and the tape. It took him one more second to recognize it not just as any Spanish dollar, but also by its other definition.

"A piece of eight."

"What's wrong, Thomas?" Sister Mercy approached, drawn by Thomas's calls.

"That sir-"

"That sir dropped his wallet, I'm just gonna give it to him," Nate stood up in a jolt, but Sister Mercy halted him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Nathan, wait."

"It's true, he dropped it," Thomas assured, figuring the Sister wasn't taking Nate's word. Nate quickly showed her the wallet, keeping the cellotape and the Spanish dollar hidden.

"No, Nathan, I'll do it."

"I'm faster, Sister, I'll just- I'll be right back." He swiftly evaded Sister Mercy's hand and hopped forward, shouting over his shoulder to the other boy. "Thanks!"

"Why are you thanking me?" Thomas asked, clueless. Nate just smiled back and ran, heart pulsing louder on his chest and driving the corner of his lips up.

He followed the street where the man ( _'man'_...) had turned, eagerly looking around in search for clues. Some feets ahead, a glint caught his attention. Another Spanish dollar, same date. He thought he would have to look for the the next, but it was right ahead on another corner, telling him where to turn.

"That's more a breadcrumb than a treasure hunting, Sam," he said to himself, but continued. A young lady had seen the next coin on the floor and was ready to pick it up, but Nate ran and quickly swipped it from the ground before she could really see him. "Thank you! I was looking for it!" he said, not really waiting for her reply.

Another dollar a little ahead, but this time a different type and coining. It was an American dollar, gold, some commemorative coin judging by the inprinted date. Abraham Lincoln was sternly looking at him from the round piece and Nate smiled back at him.

He finally reached a square a little further ahead, not too crowded but still enough for them to pass by mostly undetected if it was required. There was a small group sitting outside of a café, a nanny with three young children under her care, frequent passersby entering and exiting some of the stores, a couple of old men sitting on a bench and not much else. On the next bench, he noticed suddenly, was a folded grey coat with the black hat on top. Nate looked around trying to search for a familiar shape, but a metal clanking caught his ear and he turned on his heels as a coin was flipped on the air and swiftly caught and Nate's face brightned up.

"That was pretty neat, huh?"

"Sam!" Nate pratically jumped and clenched around Sam's waist, making him trip slightly a let out a loud 'whoa'. Nate giggled loudly and only clenched harder.

"How've you been doing, little brother? Happy birthday!" he hugged Nate back, ruffling his hair teasingly when they parted. "I was thinking you might come outside the orphanage, but if you hadn't I would find some way to sneak in. How does it feel to be the grand age of nine?"

"Ah, whatever," he replied embarassed with a shrug. Sam looked taller since he'd last seen him, but Nate knew that couldn't be possible. He was wearing the same backpack as he always did when he escaped the orphanage. It might have been the hump in his disguise before. "What about you? What have you been doing? How are you?"

"Everything's alright, I've only been out for five days, it's not like it's been months. Everything's fine." Sam grinned and snapped the coin up in the air again before he flipped it over to him. Nate caught it against his chest and turned a coin that probably would turn into Sam's next lucky charm or something. Another golden Spanish doubloon this time from 1819 - pirate coins.

"Where'd you get all this stuff?"

"I uh, you know. I've been busy." Sam had curious tells that Nate had started to note, and that evasive remark where his voice cracked just a little bit, together with that shrug and weight changing casually from one leg to another tended to be one of such tells. It was actually pretty obvious.

"Did you steal something?" He looked down at the dollars. "Did you rob an antique store or something?"

"Actually, yeah. I've made some friends some weeks back, they, you know, we do some liftings here and there."

"Is that why you fled?"

"Well, not really. Not _just_ , maybe." He shrugged. "You know I'm not really fit to live in that place. Rules and prayers and curfews, that's not really me."

"What happened to _'don't get into trouble'_?"

"You're the young brother, Nathan. You're the one that's meant to listen to me. And I didn't get into trouble did I? It was no big deal, adrenaline rush and all. And I got cash _and_ some nice treasure, so, it's all good. These aren't top dollar stuff to sell, but they're pretty nice if we need to actually sell them. If not, they're ours."

"What're you gonna do with it when you come back to the orphanage?" Nate handed him back the Spanish doubloon.

Sam packed back the coin on his pocket with one hand and nervously ruffled his hair with the other. "I, uh, I might be out for maybe like one week more or so. It's alright!" he added to Nate's shocked expression. "I've been wanting to get a job, Nathan, you know, and if I can..."

"No one's ever going to employ you before you're at least fifteen-"

Sam sniffed, offended. "It's not like I'm far off..."

"-and you can't do it legally! You can try to find something while still being in the orphanage and work everything out, I mean, Father Duffy can..."

"Father Duffy is a nice guy, but there's some things that are just out of his area, little brother," Sam replied, pulling out a smoke pack from his shirt pocket and a lighter, sparking a flame with the expertise of a trained smoker.

"Speaking of which, Father Duffy said smoking is bad for you."

Sam stopped his hand in reflex, but snaped his tongue softly and placed the cigarette between his lips. "Yeah, I know he isn't too keen on that either."

"He also said hi."

"He did? He knew I'd come by?"

Nate shrugged. "I suppose. He asked me to tell you to stay out of trouble and come home."

"Yeah, eventually."

Nate couldn't help but pouting a bit and looking down, kicking another invisible rock out of the way.

"Anyway," Sam said suddenly, waving the subject aside. "Why the hell are we even talking about all this? Today is your day! I thought we could do something different, eat something really nice! What do you want?"

"Really?" This time the stomach rumble was welcomed.

"Yeah, aren't we always seeing everyone eat delicious stuff while we're stuck with the orphanage's garbage? Remember that big group that other day, eating all those expensive dishes full of all sorts of stuff pilling on the plate? Man that looked so tasty."

"It also had a lot of cabbages," Nate recalled, sticking his tongue out.

"Come on, let's try something nice for a change. What do you want to?"

"Uh..." What did he want to eat? He had no idea. He should take the chance to eat something rare he never had the chance to, or at least just something he really missed out. There was so much stuff... french fries! Or some really big ice cream, though that wasn't exactly lunch. It wasn't like they'd eat gourmet food, and he enjoyed all the 'junk food', as the Sisters called it. It'd be awesome to eat it all, but...

"Hey, it's not the end of the world, little brother, I just asked what you wanted to eat. You don't have to think that hard."

"I'm thinking. Hm... how about some burgers?"

"Burgers? Sounds great. I actually know a caravan nearby, they're delicious there."

"Yeah, you know how the Sisters are, always saying we can't eat 'unhealthy food'."

"Ha ha, yeah, makes you think why they're feeding us that stuff in the first place, right?"

Nate nodded and giggled in agreement, and then suddenly realized something was wrong - for how long had they been there talking? Oh-

"Crap, we shouldn't be here! They can call the cops or one of the caretakers to come after me."

"Don't worry, follow me."

They crossed the square into a couple of side streets, Nate peeking over his shoulder once or twice. The wind was getting stronger, but it was still freshly pleasant, even though his hair was pretty much everywhere at that point.

"Man, your hair is getting long! Look at that," Sam tousled it around to make his point. Nate tried to escape him while trying to get the bangs that got over his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. Should probably trim it, but I wait until the Sisters say something."

Sam lead him to a third street and then stopped, apparently for no reason. Nate waited, wondering what it was that made him stop, and eventually Sam opened his arms smiling.

"The bike. This bike. Nathan."

Nate blinked and glanced at the motorcycle behind Sam, taking him a couple of seconds to join the dots and his whole expression widen up again.

"Whoa! ! Are you serious? Where'd you get this from?"

"Uh, you know, I borrowed it from a friend," Nate giggled to himself quietly. "It's your birthday, he didn't mind borrowing it for today so we can take a ride. It's pretty damn handy right now, we won't have to worry about being too close to the orphanage."

"Wait, but won't you get in trouble? You're not even fifteen!"

"So?" Sam shrugged again. "You're sounding more like Father Duffy than you should. Are you telling me I look like a kid?"

"You don't exactly look like a buffed grown up."

"Hey!" Sam hopped on the bike and signalled Nate to get behind him. "Come on, it's not too far and you'll really like your lunch. Don't worry, seriously."

Obviously, Nate trusted Sam. He'd always will. Besides, nothing would go wrong with just a small ride and they wouldn't risk getting spot in the next few minutes.

And it was a bike ride! And a delicious burger! That'd be everything better than he hoped for.

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to be continued

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 **Author's Note:** Next is the end. I am not as physically fit for 24h awake days as when I was younger.  
 **Thanks for reading** and please point out mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for reading, I really appreciate your time. Adding here emobucky, AllTheMudkips and TheGfGossiper, HPmarauder18 and the power of cats to the list of reviewers/faves/alerts/kudos. Thanks for all the anonymous kudos as well.

I tried remembering one of the best burgers I've ever eaten in a roulotte/caravan years back. I cannot possibly remember the amount of stuff it had in it, it's been far too many years, it was way too late at night and downpouring way too much for me to remember in just a couple of minutes. I also noted from most pop culture stuff (or just Pulp Fiction I guess) that the US aren't nearly as fan as mayonese and they should be, so, mayonese there is.

I found this chapter would be too long if I post it as I wrote it. I therefore split it up in 2 parts. The 4th and last chapter is finished and edited, so it won't take long to post.

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Obviously, if it could happen, it would happen. What was it called? Nate knew more about History than Literature, but the two were pleasantly entwined for him to spot and identify the concept of Murphy's Law and how perfectly it applied to him.

Or just bad luck. He didn't have much luck in life, that was a given fact, and where he happened to be in, things tended to go sour. He also had a feeling it wasn't something that would change anytime soon.

Sam appeared to be the opposite - at least _appeared_ to, because it most likely ran in their blood.

Not even three minutes after they had started driving, a car nearly ran them over - not out of Sam's bad driving (Nate wouldn't pick on him out of it, not even just for the jokes, it really wasn't his fault), but out of the car's owner. Sam had managed to not only avoid the red car that barely tried to hit the brakes, but to also hold and control the bike as the loud and screeching sound of the tires deafened them and the bike tried to kick him and Nate out in the momentum. Were it different circumstances (or were Nate more used to _these_ kind of circumstances, he guessed) he would have really taken note of Sam's driving skills. As it was, he was just breathless from excitement and dread to really note it appropriately. They might have so easily got seriously hurt, neither of them had helmets and the car was driving just way too fast for them to be unscathed in a crash. That could also have culminated in attracting attention that might have made them get spot and escourted to the orphanage to expect some real punishment.

Either that or the hospital. Which was kinda more serious.

"Well damn, so much adventure just to get some burgers. We really are something, little brother."

Nate uttered something unclear in return and held on tightly around Sam's chest for the rest of the quick but now boring trip.

It wasn't a long drive at all. They were just two blocks away from the orphanage, another nice square where the metallic caravan stood out from afar. Sam slowed down and stopped the bike by a corner, breathing out in relief like he had been holding it in for the last minutes.

"I'd say we finally go lunch, huh?"

"I wouldn't have made it through that one," Nate admitted, heart racing just from remembering.

"Sure you would. It was more the startle than anything else. You just gotta keep it cool."

He wondered if he should mention the amount of rapid fire cursing/praying Sam mumbled in the immediate seconds after the near crash. _'Cool'_ did not even begin to be the close to any of it.

"Let's just try to eat something while we're still alive then," he said instead.

The owner of the caravan, or at least the one in charge at the moment, was a young woman with hair tied up in a small ponytail. She seemed to recognize Sam, which was surprising even if she pinpointed something about him amongst the wide variety of clients of the stand, and greeted them both.

"Hiya, can I help you?"

"Yes please, two burgers, that special you have. I want mine with all sauces and... Nathan, you too?"

"Yes, please."

"And a slice of lettuce too."

"Blegh, Sam."

"Come on, we need to stay healthy, right?"

"One piece of lettuce in between all that isn't gonna work," Nate laughed, watching as the owner started preparing Sam's burger, going all over the place in the small caravan as she picked up the ingredients and pilled bread, meat, cheese, some special meat sauce he didn't know, onion slices, mushrooms, one layer of ketchup, mostard, even mayonese, more cheese, thin tomato slices and managed to stuck lettuce in there. And did it actually have _two_ layers of meat or did he see it wrong? Nate would never know how that mountain of food did not cramble down the moment the last slice of bread was swiftly placed on top and the monstrous hamburguer was wrapped in an aluminium foil. Far too much expertise, he guessed.

"Here ya go," the owner handed Sam the monstrousity, getting immediately ready to make the second.

"Look at this beauty."

"I don't think I can eat all that."

"It's the best burger you'll ever eat. Swear to God, man."

"Ah, I appreciate the publicity!" the owner commented, a wide smile on her face. "I remember you, you've been here once or twice, huh? Keep on bringin' me more clients and we'll think of a discount."

"Ha ha, got it. I had to bring my little brother to taste this, it's his birthday today," Sam added, much to Nate's embarrassment.

"You don't need to make a freaking announcement about it."

"Oh hey, happy birthday champ! Keep eating nice stuff and keep growing up!"

"Thanks. I don't really care for birthdays-"

"You're nine! That's a big age."

"It's not that different from being eight, Sam."

"Yeah well, ten will be different from nine too, you know."

"Only difference will be when I'm eighteen. Until then it's all the same."

The caravan owner smirked and exchanged looks with Sam, in that sort of secret code adults tended to share. Only Sam wasn't really an adult yet either, he sometimes forgot.

"Ok little brother, if you say so."

The owner finished the second burger and leaned over the balcony to hand it to Nate, together with several napkins. He thanked her and stared wide eyed at his lunch while Sam searched his pocket for money. After telling her to keep the change, there was a quick exchange of words and Nate slightly rolled his eyes, half expecting some flirtation to unravel, but another client approached and she quickly turned around, picking two tall cups and filling it with juice before attending to the client.

"Just to go with the burgers. On the house."

"Thanks," Sam bowed his head and swirled around rather theatrically, not really noting that the owner was no longer paying that much attention.

Nate was already searching for an empty bench, as this square was busier than the one from before. He found a spot and happily swinged his feet back and forth while waiting for Sam to join him. On his way to the bench he fetched the wallet Nate had handed him, without the Spanish coin cellotaped to it, and dropped it unceremoniously to a trash can.

Sam handed him his juice as he sat down next to him and clanked the paper cup onto Nate's in a toast right before he pratically dug his face into the burger. Nate laughed at the endeavour, though he knew he was just about to enter the same task.

It was difficult, but he figured he'd have to just do it by layers. He took a bite of mostly mushrooms, lettuce and sauce, feeling the terrible crunchiness of the vegetable shiver through him and the sauce mix splatter everything and smudge his cheek and his nose. He laughed at himself and guessed they should have asked for a lot of napkins. He tried to give a second bite to get a bit of meat and mix it around in his mouth.

It certainly was yummy.

Sam spent some good amount of seconds in silence as he took bite after bite of his burger before letting out a delighted sound.

"How do you describe this pure joy of eating the most delicious burger in the world?"

Nate chewed thoughtfully, the task of actually chewing the monstrous bite of meat and everything else attached more complicated than running a mental lexicon. It apparently resulted in a bright and inspired: "I don't know. Uh, with a 'H' and a 'M'? A big 'Hmmmmm'?"

Sam laughed and nodded, his mouth stuffed as well. Nate laughed at himself too, and both figured it wiser to eat in silence rather than making it more difficult with multitasking. The orange juice was a perfect complement.

"Hey Sam." After several minutes and already struggling with what was left of his burger, having lost some of onions and mushrooms by accident (and the lettuce not so much by accident), Nate was finally devouring the cheese, still deliciously melted. "How much time did you take at the antique store?"

"Hm? Not that much."

"Were there any nice old books?"

"Yeah, probably, but I couldn't really get a good look at them, and the guys I went with didn't really think books are as valuable as the register cash, old coins and silverware. I wanted to pick up some books but I barely had time."

"Oh, that's a shame. Imagine all the rare explorer reports and historical titles they could have."

Sam shrugged. "It wasn't the best antique store."

He knew it was dangerous, of course, but the challenge of checking for antiques seemed rather interesting. Sneaking into places was also pretty cool, as he had seen Sam do it since pretty much he remembered it and wanted to imitate him. He was still too small for most things, but for others his size was precisely his benefit. If the orphanage's library had even more books on History, he would stay there even longer despite the bedtime hours. He could sneak beneath shelves and wait for everyone to leave. As for taking something that wasn't his, well... he knew it wasn't right, as the Sisters were always teaching, but in the height of his now nine years of life experience, he also knew sometimes it might be the only thing to be done.

'Cause, well, if he could help Sam getting money for instance, he wouldn't mind trying to steal it. He just had to learn.

"Oh shit..."

Nate raised his head from the burger, streching strings of cheese up with him and making the effort to break them loose. Sam took one moment too long to mask his expression when Nate looked at him, and that was enough for the younger brother to follow his gaze to the other side of the square before Sam could try to come up with something to say.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing. I just recognized someone."

So did Nate.

...Murphy's Law or bad luck or whatever...

"I'm just gonna talk to my friend over there, ok, little brother? Everything's alright ok, no need to look so stern!" he added jokingly, a protective trait Nate was too familiar with.

"I know who he is, Sam. Do we need to go?"

Sam gaped for one moment and then swallowed, looking around quickly in reflex, but ending up sighing instead.

"I'm just gonna..."

"If you're trying to do it to protect me or something, there's no need to, ok? We can go, you don't need to-"

"Nathan, just finish eating, ok? Let's not get into troubles because of this."

"Father Duffy is right, you should listen to your advises sometimes."

"Yeah, maybe."

He wasn't in his usual uniform with which he would sometimes visit the orphanage, either during some casual safety lecture by the police or to return some runaway, but Mr. Jackman's beard at least made him recognizable from afar. The tall middle aged man had already crossed the square calmly and was deliberately slowing down each step as he approached their bench. There was no pretending they didn't recognize each other.

Mr. Jackman stopped some feet away from them when he noted Sam was getting up and not to escape. Sam had his usual casual expression, but tried to talk quietly as if not to worry Nate (as if he wasn't already), probably not realizing he could listen to them either way.

"How've you been, Morgan?"

"Hey, Mr. Jackman, you look nice in casual style. What brings you to this square?"

"I happen to live nearby." Mr. Jackman was actually a very nice man. At first, Nate had thought him to be Sister Catherine's brother, from their mirrored stiff expressions and even reminiscent face features, but obviously they were not related. He spoke kindly and funnily to the youngsters, and he didn't act rough unless heavily provoked. Like most of the local policemen, he was quite familiar with St Francis Boy's Home frequent runaways. "I'm just hoping that tomorrow when I return from my dayoff, I won't hear that Morgan Junior has been missing from the orphanage and worrying everyone in there."

"He's not _missing_ , for Ch- alright." He lowered his voice a bit more. "It's his birthday today. Could you... could we not do a big scene?"

Mr. Jackman's eyes turned to Nate, who pretended he wasn't listening. The policeman sighed and nodded quietly.

"You, Morgan... I don't know why you're so inconsistent."

"I'm not even gonna try to guess what that means."

Mr. Jackman waved at Nate and smiled, apparently ignoring he had heard them.

"Happy birthday there, Nate."

For what seemed like the 10th time that day, Nate uttered a "Thanks" as Sam returned to his side, but not sitting down and not really sipping the rest of the orange juice, just holding the cup around in his hands.

"Did you like the lunch?"

"Yeah, it was awesome. Sam, do you-"

He signalled Mr Jackman with his head and shrugged. "I think it's best if we just go back now. You know, whatever. Other stuff'll have to wait."

Nate wanted to try and ask if he needed cover, for Nate to distract Mr Jackman just a bit, but Sam didn't really seem like he would even try to evade him.

There seemed to be one thing bothering him though, when he readjusted his backpack and his eyes suddenly widen.

"Ah shit."

"What?" Nate asked, worried.

"Man, they'll search my backpack."

"It should be no problem, should it, Morgan?" Mr Jackman sounded over Sam.

"It wouldn't be if people didn't brand me a criminal." He turned to Nate, grinning and patting the straps of his backpack. "I'm not just giving you lunch as birthday gift, little brother, I mean come on. I just don't want it to get confiscated or something."

Nate pretty much blocked the rest of the talk at the mention of gifts. He felt his whole face brighten up like it did when he saw the Spanish coin, and failed to this time hear Sam and Mr. Jackman talk.

"Can I have the presents?"

"I think it's better we go back now and let the kid have his presents at home, wouldn't you say, Morgan?"

"I just hope..." Sam gave up on what he was saying and let down his backpack, opening it and removing two packages wrapped in brown plain paper. "Sorry it's like this, but..."

"Thank you, Sam! I want to open them!"

"Let's go back and you open them later, hm, Nate?" Mr Jackman interrupted.

Nate protested faintly, changing opinion on Mr. Jackman rather quickly, but Sam reassured him with a hand on his arm.

"It's ok, it's a bigger surprise that way. I guess it's better, what if you don't like the presents and get all awkward with me watching your reaction?"

"Don't be silly, Sam." Defeated and not satisfied with it, he held the two packages tightly and stopped momentarily. If he had not guessed from the form, he was now sure it was books. Books... He turned his face in a jolt, a smile appearing again, and was finally sure this would be the best birthday even with all the mishaps when he saw Sam grin back at him and wink, a silent 'shh' sound forming on his lips.

Nate jumped and hugged him.

"Let's go, Nathan?"

"By the way, I don't need to worry about that bike over there, do I?" Mr Jackman added all too knowingly.

Sam turned around apparently clueless, eyes passing by the motorcycle without seeing it at first.

"That bike? It's pretty cool, isn't it? Why should you worry, Mr. Jackman? The owner must be nearby or something."

"Let us hope so."

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to be continued

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 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Thanks for your patience. This 'simple small story' that took 20 minutes to plan and fit into a napkin just expanded while writing. Hence it growing to 4 chapters rather than the oneshot it was supposed to be.

New people have yet again noted, so thanks to RayneSummer and everyone else who takes time to read. Thanks for all the comments and favs.

This felt like it needed nostalgy feeling, so it was finished typing to 7 Days to the Wolves by Nightwish.

Without further ado, the last chapter. Hope you like it.

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Both of them behaved while they walked to Mr Jackman's car, which wasn't far off the square. He really did live nearby, which Nate was sure Sam was making a mental note of for future reference. The policeman drove them back to the orphanage, ocasionally peeking on Sam through the rearview mirror as if he was checking if he was still there.

Expecting some outburst even before they turned to the orphanage's street, Nate held on to the books tightly and vowed to not let anyone take them away. A caretaker recognized Mr Jackman's car and the Morgan brothers from afar and opened the gate, waving his head dissaprovingly at both of them but without saying a word.

Sister Catherine wasn't so silent.

"Nathan Morgan!" She did sound genuinely concerned, and Nate let his gaze fall down and his arms tightened even harder around the wrapped presents. She eyed the packages, but was more focused on letting out her worry. "You know how worried sick we all were? How could you just run off like that? Sister Mercy nearly fainted from distress after you left off!"

Crap, that was really something he would have to repent in confession later, wasn't it? He didn't intent to frighten Sister Mercy... but he had such a good time with Sam, he didn't really regret having fled. He didn't want to worry anyone, but...

"We've already called the police office. A lot of people got warned, and now we have to call again and tell them to stop their efforts."

Sam scoffed beside Nate. "For a couple of kids? Are we wanted murderers?"

"I will talk with you next, Samuel," Sister Catherine said sharply, barely looking at Sam.

Attracted by the sound, several other nuns and youngsters came by, half of them showing relief, the other half showing accomplishment.

"I am going to tell Father Duffy," one of the caretakers said while Sister Catherine thanked Mr Jackman.

"Everything's alright, Sister. Just one more for Morgan, huh," the policeman said calmly.

"Try as we may..." she whined and sighed to Mr Jackman, and exchanged a couple of words with him before her gaze lowered from the tall man's and grew colder as it did so. "Samuel."

"Hello, Sister Catherine."

"In what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

"I'm not always into trouble, Sister, you know I also need time to sleep." Sister Catherine didn't find it a single bit funny, so Sam chuckled for both of them.

"Troubles besides trying to push your brother into criminal activities?"

"Please, what criminal activities? What wrong did I do? He's my brother, I'm not kidnapping him, we just went to have lunch! Police and whatnot just because two kids didn't-"

"It's precisely because Nathan is eight. He's not fourteen or eighteen, he's _eight-_ "

"I'm nine..." Nate mumbled under his breath, seeing as everyone congratulated him over and over throughout the day, might as well do the grand age transition announcement. Sister Catherine obviously didn't hear him.

"-and you are fourteen. You are not his father, you are not his caretaker. None of you can leave this home without permission. Do I really need to tell you all the reasons why you cannot do so, everything that can happen to you both? If you're set in going to a juvenile hall, you should at least worry about protecting your brother from the same fate. You are hopeless, young man."

"Sister Catherine, please." Father Duffy's voice sounded from the corridor, and the priest approached escolted by the caretaker. "Samuel, Nathan, it's good to see you both well. We were very worried, specially when you disappeared, Nathan."

"I'm sorry, Father Duffy..."

"We'll talk later, alright? Samuel, it's been some days, hm? Will you come with me to my office?"

Sam evaded the priest's eyes and opened his arms a bit snooty, but sighed and bowed his head in apology soon after.

"Mr Jackman should probably stay, just in case there needs to be some police form about lifting," Sister Catherine added, signaling Sam's backpack just like he had anticipated.

Father Duffy might have said something against it, but seeing as Mr Jackman was there already and not being blindly naive of the possibility, the priest asked if the policeman would mind waiting some minutes. Nate could but watch Sam's unhappy face as he had to let go of the backpack, though Nate did feel a bit more relieved that he was the one to have all the antique coins stuffed protectively in his pockets. Sam did have the pirate doubloon with him, but...

"Mr Jackman has to file this one in too?" Sam pulled out the smoke pack from his pocket, to Father Duffy's clear sigh. "Sorry, Father Duffy."

"You should apologize to yourself and the lifelong addiction you're creating before you apologize to me, Samuel."

"Can I at least keep the lighter? I like lighters."

Mr Jackman waved his head, but there was a small smile on his face as the group started to walk.

"What are those packages, Nathan? Where did you get them from?"

Something inside Nate crashed and jumped and hurt just like when they nearly had the accident earlier. Another Sister, a mean nun called Sister Angela, pointed out the wrapped presents on his arms, and immediately Sister Catherine stopped and turned to him.

"I presume they're from you, Samuel. May we know where you got them?"

"Come on, I got them, ok, I bought them. I didn't steal, ok? Don't take them away from him." Sam's previous jest vanished and he didn't look well all of a sudden.

Sister Angela had an even sterner heaviness to her wrinkled forehead, and Nate turned in begging sympathy to Father Duffy, who thankfully had stopped too.

"He had just finished buying them when I found the two," Mr. Jackman said instead, attracting the gazes to his direction, Nate and Sam's widder than anyone else's. "I can't say where he got the cash from, but we all know if there's one thing about Morgan, is that he cares for his brother. It's Nate's birthday, it's just a present. Morgan didn't struggle or tried to run away or anything when I told them I'd bring them home, all because of the circumstances. There's no need to take the boy's presents."

Trying not to ruin everything by looking dumbfounded, both Sam and Nate exchanged quick glances before trying to put on their best and quickest poker faces, Nate's opinion on the policeman going around 180º degrees again.

He was let off the hook, but obviously Sam had still quite a bit of talk and scolding ahead, hopefully not something more. Nate was sent to his room, which was rationally the only thing he could really do in this moment. He tried to thank Mr. Jackman, but hoped a silent glance and faded smile would be enough for the man to interpret.

Nate crossed the rows of corridors he knew better than the palm of his hand and climbed the staircases, deciding that if anyone tried to pick on him and steal the books he would rather fly clenched around them than letting go. The boys he came across said basically slight variations between "Everyone was really worried", "You got to steal something?", "Back already? Dumbass" and no one did anything so he could quickly go by.

The room was blessfully empty, all the beds made more or less well and everyone enjoying the fresh weather outside or scattered through the playrooms. Without wasting a minute, Nate rushed to his bed and jumped up, eyeing the wrapped presents for the last time before rushing to tear the paper off. It was obviously books, but... Sam's wink, and the earlier conversation... that would mean he had lied and would have _a lot_ to apologize for in confession (if he cared much for confession that was) but...

He unwrapped the brown paper and removed the book inside. It was actually two books, wrapped together in a larger package. His brow frowned in confusion; it was a psalm book, which was obviously odd. There were dozens, hundreds of religious books in the orphanage, and this one felt strange. He passed the hand by the cover, finding the texture completely different from what he was used to, no usual leather binding or careful imprinting. He should have noted just by looking that it was a paper cover, brand new. And it didn't fit perfectly with the hard cover bellow, or the slightly yellowed tone of the pages. Nate turned the book on his hands and opened both sides of the cover, confirming his thoughts on the odd paper; it was added, a simple make up effort just to pass by unnoticed at first sight. It slipped effortlessly from the sides right out as soon as he slid it. The real hardcover bellow had a decently preserved old texture and the familiar roughness sent a slight excited jolt through his arm. He turned the book up again and the letters _'The Book of Buried Treasure'_ followed by a large sub-title in smaller lettering, by Ralph Delahaye Paine, met his surprised stare.

Holy shi- crap.

Too excited to wait, he pulled the second book from the paper and again found a psalm fake cover. Now seeing through the simple deceit, he peeled off the added paper and _'When Egypt Ruled the East'_ by George Steindorff and Keith Seele was beneath. Both were second editions, which obviously meant they weren't bought in the nearest bookstore.

Holy shit! Historical books! Egypt! Sam knew how much he liked mummies first and foremost and knew all about canopic jars and mummification and knew the different Pharaohs and several lineages by heart; and pirates! He wouldn't resist grooming Nate for a shared interest. These were brilliant!

Nate's cheeks were hurting a bit from smiling when he recalled he had a second package on his bed. He unwrapped the paper and again felt the startle of surprise, though this time it felt slightly different.

It was a notebook. It was completely distinct, yet there was a pinch of unwanted recognition. Not white, a black leather binding, but Nate couldn't help but get a quick flash of the notebooks he would never see again. This notebook smelled new and pleasant. He opened the cover, very different from their mother's, and the different handwriting inside had a small message adressed to him rather than the long dissertations she used to write.

 _I wish it could be more, and I know it'll take you about a day to devour each book, but I hope you'll enjoy all the freaky mummies you like so much. (I'm kidding, I know it's more about Pharaohs than mummification!)_

 _And ok, this is really what I want to say: I know pirates aren't your favorite subject, but maybe reading a bit more about them will help change your mind. You have all these pages to write down your analysis!_

 _Happy 9th birthday Nathan._

 _Sam_

 _PS: Let me read it later too, ok? The Book of Buried Treasure, not the mummies one._

A quick annoying sting made him scratch his eye with his sleeve. Nate re-read the note and then lowered the black notebook, laying it on his side. Before any analysis, he would begin by describing this day. But for now, he placed back the fake paper covers on his relique books and placed his pillow against the wall, crossing his legs and getting as much sunlight as he could, and began reading _The Book of Buried Treasure_.

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 **the end**

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 **Author's Note:** I've known many nuns, and 90% of them were really nice. I also know someone who had the opposite opinion and experience, so it's a matter of perspective and people. Nate's perspective of the orphanage wasn't the best and the people he met were not the best, so, the nuns through his eyes weren't the best.

Those two books Sam gave Nate are legit (as is 'A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates'! Gotta love Naughty Dog), neither are as old as A General History of the Pyrates but as old as hopefully Sam would find in an antique store circa 1980.

I do plan to write at least one more fic about the Drake Brothers, but at least the first chapters will not be light nor pleasant. Let's see if I don't jynx it just by talking about it. Maybe someday.

 **Thank you to everyone who read and reads in the future.** I really appreciate your time, and if you can leave a review/feedback/opinion, that would be great. See you.

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